But it was to be no easy victory. Though by reason of Bill’s twirling a momentary halt had been called on the winning streak of the visitors, still Westfield must make more runs in order to win the game. And this was not easy. Hedden was hit for two singles, but the Westfield players were a bit careless on bases, and one was caught napping. One run was brought in on Cap’s three bagger making the score eight to nine, with a single leading tally in favor of the visitors. From then on it was nip and tuck for victory. Bill kept up the good twirling, and such box work as he exhibited was not seen for many a long day on the Westfield diamond. Not a Tuckerton player got a hit off him in the next three innings, goose eggs going up in the frames, that up to the advent of Bill had contained at least one tally for each time the visitors were at bat. But, on the other hand Westfield, try as they did, could not score. The captain and coach begged and pleaded, and the crowds by songs and cheers urged their men to battle to the death. It seemed useless. The two teams, now evenly matched, sea-sawed back and forth, with grim, bulldog tenacity, but there the game hung in the balance. Tuckerton was still one run ahead when they came to bat in the ninth inning. “Hold ’em down! Hold ’em down!” pleaded Cap to Bill. “I will,” promised the pitcher, and he did, striking three men out in quick succession amid the cheers of the crowd. “Now’s our last chance,” murmured Captain Graydon as his men came in. “It’s do or die for the pennant now!” CHAPTER XXXIII WINNING THE PENNANT “One run to tie, two to win and three to make a good job of it,” murmured Cap, as he walked to the bench with his brothers. “Can we do it?” “We’ve got to,” answered Bill. “You make a home run, I’ll limp along after you, and Pete can follow,” suggested Bill. “That will do the business.” “It might happen,” said Cap. “Whistle-Breeches is up first, then I follow, and, after Graydon has a whack, you and Pete come along, Bill.” “Oh, don’t talk about it!” exclaimed the pitcher. “It makes me nervous,” but he did not show any signs of it. “How are your eyes?” asked Pete. “All right. I feel fine. But I’d like to know who hid my glasses.” “Batter up!” called the umpire, and Whistle-Breeches, a little pale because of what depended on his work, walked to the plate. “Now line out a good one!” counseled the coach. “You can do it. Wait for a nice one.” It was good advice, and well meant, but alas! Whistle-Breeches fanned the air. “One down!” exulted the captain of the Tuckerton nine. “We only need two more!” “Well, you don’t get me!” murmured Cap, with a grim tightening of his mouth. And he made good. A pretty two-bagger was his contribution, and he got to third on a little fly which Graydon knocked, but the captain was out at first. “Two down, play for the batter!” called Burke. “They’ve only got one chance, and they can’t make good. The pennant comes to Tuckerton!”